Shattered Heart
by InvderLava
Summary: One summer afternoon, another toy is lost, but it's not just porcelain that shatters. Set between TS2 and TS3, so no real spoilers for TS3. Andy is 12-13, Molly is 7-8.


**Title: **Shattered Heart

**Rated: **PG for ANGST

**Summary:** One summer afternoon, another toy is lost, but it's not just porcelain that breaks.

**Warnings:** WARNING: DEPRESSING THINGS AHEAD.

**A/N:** No real spoilers for the movie. Set b/w 2 and 3, when Andy is 12-13, and Molly is 7-8.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Toy Story, nor any of the characters related to Pixar and Disney.

**A/N the 2nd: **Somebody had to write it. And no matter how much I've loved reading the "Bo was sold at a yard sale and ends up with Bonnie and the gang later!" plot, a part of me refuses to accept the fact that Mom would have sold her at a stupid yard sale for two bucks.

So my brain came up with this, which is _so much worse_ than a yard sale…

* * *

It's on one of those lazy summer days that it happens, a day where the only thing interesting that occurs is when Hamm cheats on his Battleship game with Mr. Potato Head, and Andy has to clean his room before going out with his friends to see a movie. It's late summer, just weeks before school starts, and the summer heat is making everyone lethargic, Woody and Slinky trying to play a game of checkers without dozing off and other toys milling about outside the toybox trying to stay cool. Buzz, Jessie, and Bullseye are watching an action movie on low volume in order to not disturb the rest of the household, Buzz discreetly watching Jessie out of the corner of his eye.

Mom's voice drifts up from where Woody assumes is the kitchen. It's faint, but Woody keeps his ear on the conversation, just in case someone decides to enter Andy's room.

"You know, Molly, you really should clean your room, too. Your stuff is starting to form mountains in there, and you know I'm not going to pick them up for you."

"But Mom," Woody hears Molly reply, "you do it so much better than me. Besides, do I really need to? It's not like anything's lost, I know exactly where everything is."

"Yes, you do need to. What if there was an emergency in the night and you tripped over something on your rush to get out of your room? Now go, and no more complaints."

"Fiiine," Molly whines. Woody hears her come up the stairs, and the other toys who do as well tense, but then relax when Molly's door squeaks open. The toys return their attentions to what they were doing, and Woody returns his full attention to the board, attempting to find a move without sacrificing one of his pieces.

Twenty minutes later, there are more footsteps outside Andy's slightly cracked door heading down the stairs.

Molly yells, "Mom, where did you put the laundry basket?"

"Where I always put it, hun, downstairs in the laundry room."

"Right, right..."

A few minutes later, Mom says, "Don't feel as if you need to lug down too much at once."

"It's fine," Molly replies, "I don't have that much laundry."

Mom laughs. "I've seen your closet, Molly, and how your room gets. Remember, if your laundry reaches the top of the basket, _you're_ helping me load the machine."

"_Yes,_ Mom."

Molly's shoes pad up the stairs and down the hall again, and they stop with the sound of the basket hitting the floor.

"Let's see..."

The sound of rustling cloth reaches Andy's room for a few minutes, until Molly's finishes.

"Shoot," Molly says, loud enough where it travels down the hall, but not enough for Mom to hear. "Overshot the rim of the basket. Oh, well, maybe I can put some of this in Andy's pile, maybe Mom won't noti- whoa!"

The shrill squeak of sneakers on wood echoes down the hall, and in the next instant the sound of something heavy falling into a dresser, drawers rattling...

A beat.

Then... CRASH!

The toys in Andy's room jump, startled, and Buzz mutes the TV, concerned along with the others.

"Dang, that hurt! Stupid dresser," Molly exclaims.

"Molly, are you alright?" Mom calls, her footsteps already rushing up the stairs.

Molly's voice starts off in a yell, but then she trails off. "Yeah, Mom! I'm... fine...

"MOM!" Molly's voice is tinged with panic, and the toys tense.

Mom's there, concerned and worried. "Yes, Molly, are you hurt?"

Molly's voice is almost incomprehensible, she's speaking so fast.

"I'm sorry, Mom! I'm sorry! It was an accident! I didn't know she was there! I- I didn't know she was so close to the edge, I-"

"Oh, _Molly_." Mom's voice is full of heartbreak. "Molly, my mother gave this to me. Oh..."

"Can- can we fix her? The pieces aren't _that_... they aren't _too_ small. Maybe we can glue- ouch!"

"Molly, you shouldn't have tried to pick her up! H-here, give me your hand..."

A beat.

"...I'm so sorry, Mom."

Andy's toys are still, staring either at the door, or at Woody.

Woody's face has gone white.

Mom sighs. "It's... okay, Molly. Here, let's take a look at your hand downstairs. Then I'll get a broom..."

Their footsteps head downstairs.

Slinky looks at Woody, whose face looks stricken. Cautiously, Slinky asks, "Woody...?"

But Woody is already moving, disregarding Slinky, and Buzz and Jessie's cries of "Wait, Woody!"

Woody's out the door before he thinks about it, not caring if he's seen, because he refuses to believe it until he's seen proof, but there won't be any proof, because there's no way-!

He stops at the threshold, taking in the scene. The basket of laundry has fallen on its side, dirty clothes spilling out, and the dresser has shifted a few inches, but Woody doesn't really see this.

All he sees, all that he _can_ see, is...

"Bo..."

Woody falls to his knees, a distant part of himself hearing Buzz and Jessie's gasps behind him as they too see what's happened.

Bo's skirt hadn't been porcelain, but her upper torso and arms had been, and now they were in a few scattered pieces next to the dresser. She must have fallen sideways and turned upside down, because the only thing left of her head was her bonnet and several unidentifiable chunks of colored porcelain. The lamp shade's pieces had slid after they had hit the floor and broken apart, and they were as far away from the light stand as two feet. Her staff was in three pieces next to her, her green and blue flower-covered base was cracked in two, and her sheep had all but shattered into dust.

Woody couldn't feel anything except for the searing pain near his voice box where his heart would be if he were human.

"Bo…"

Jessie's there, throwing her arms around him, sobbing. Woody tears his eyes away, squeezing them shut and turning into Jessie's vest.

Buzz crouches next to them, a terribly sad expression on his face, and sets his hand on Woody's shoulder.

Bo is not like the Potato Heads, Woody thinks. Even had her head remained intact, she would not have been able to speak anyway. The Spuds were designed for that, for being separated from their parts and still being able to use them, not Bo.

Woody thinks that he should be grateful that Bo needn't go through the horror of being aware that she had shattered beyond repair. He should be grateful for that, but all he can think about is how he wishes that he could have at least said goodbye.


End file.
